


Mutually Deserving

by JackyM



Category: Twin Peaks
Genre: Fluff, M/M, i have no inkling of how on earth this is supposed to work temporally speaking, so au where everything is the same except the timeline is like. way longer, way longer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-21
Updated: 2017-01-21
Packaged: 2018-09-19 01:36:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9411608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JackyM/pseuds/JackyM
Summary: Dale has his quirks, and Harry loves them.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Okiedoke, my second take at writing these two. I do not know if the characterization and whatnot is good, there's some other things I tried doing in this fic that are different from the last one I wrote, so, ye! Please be gentle! ;w;

Part of being in a relationship, Harry had figured out a long time ago, was learning about the more intimate details of who he was dating. Not intimate details about their personal life or history, but intimate details such as how they get up in the morning and how they sleep and what they do when they suddenly wake up in the middle of the night. Things that wouldn’t really be known and likely never would come up in a casual conversation, normal everyday things that, upon being found out, added a level of sweetness and understanding to a relationship.

Harry had long gotten used to Dale’s quirks, though they hardly warranted a term such as “gotten used to”. He’d more so become even more fond of Dale’s quirks, quirks that once were simply one of the reasons he’d struck up a friendship with Dale in the first place. 

Presently, Dale was chewing on a pillow in his sleep. Apparently this wasn’t incredibly uncommon for people in general, but it was something that Harry found endearing in a sense he couldn’t quite give words to.

Harry rolled over and ruffled Dale’s hair. The chewing stopped, and Dale simply rolled over and stretched out his legs. After a few minutes he reached forward and mumbled something unintelligible, and opened a sliver of one of his eyes.

“Hey there,” said Harry, chuckling as Dale pushed mussed hair away from his eyes, “you were chewing on your pillow before you woke up.”

“I’ve chewed on things in my sleep before” Dale said, yawning and then blinking a few times in the light, “I think it tends to happen when I’ve had coffee after nine-thirty two pm, exactly. I’m not sure why that is. Some think drinking coffee after a certain hour can alter the nature of peoples’ dreams and sleep activity.”

“You think coffee is the reason you chew on things in your sleep?”

“I think it is _possible_. I can’t know for sure. To ascertain that I’d have to spent several weeks taking coffee at different times and finding a way to monitor my behavior while also sleeping. And I feel the results would not be quite as telling as I hoped initially, possibly due to the fact that monitoring your behavior while sleeping is not the most practical idea. So I can only assume it’s a _possible_ reason.”

“Guess I’ll have to get used to that, then.”

“If it’s a problem, Harry-“

“It’s not, Coop. It’s sort of the opposite of a problem. It’s like how I didn’t know your hair did that when you woke up.”

“Did what?”

Harry took a hand and slid it up Dale’s forehead, resting his fingers in a tuft of hair that invariably stuck up whenever Dale woke up.

“Did this.”

“ _Oh_. Well,” for a few brief moments Harry witnessed Dale being the slightest bit embarrassed, which he had to admit he didn’t see too often, “I try to take care of that before going into work. It’s part of making an attempt to appear stoic and unbiased. And also, for a long time I have been under the assumption that when making yourself presentable, you shouldn’t walk around having barely changed your appearance since you woke up.”

“I guess I can’t assume everyone would find it as charming as I do.”

“I don’t imagine they would, Harry.”

“But if anyone _could_ make waking up with messy hair look charming, Coop…”

“Harry,” said shielding his face with one hand and covering up a smile, “ _please_.”

“What?”

“You are flattering me and making blood rush to my face at higher than normal speeds which is caused by my heart beating a lot faster. Which is because you are, as aforementioned, flattering me.”

“Mmhm,” was all Harry said. He took Dale’s free hand and kissed it once, gently. Right afterwards, Dale flipped himself over, and for a moment just stayed there covering his face and desperately trying to hide just how much he was smiling. Harry was smiling just as much, and was still smiling when he pulled himself out from under the covers and stretched and went to go get coffee for himself and his adorable partner.

When he was close to the bedroom, he heard Dale talking, no doubt to his tape recorder, another thing about him that hadn’t at first been an easy thing to understand until Harry came to realize it was much easier for Dale to talk to a tape recorder to verbalize his feelings than it was for him to talk to anyone else. For a few minutes Harry just stayed outside the bedroom, half of him wanting to let Dale finish in his own company and half wondering if Dale was talking about what he figured Dale was probably talking about.

“…and he called me charming, Diane. He called me charming _twice_. I don’t think I need to remind you just how strongly his words have always resonated and stuck with me, which of course means this word resonating and sticking shows a whole new kind of meaningfulness in and of itself. It’s like how sap from a tree sticks to your hand and it’s impossible to wash it out no matter how much soap you apply and how much you rub your hands together. Except, the inconvenience of sap sticking to your hands is not present when the sap represents a word as emotionally loaded and meaningful as _charming_. _Charming_ , Diane! He genuinely thinks that I am charming and worthy of his amazing capacity of love and kindness. Sheriff Truman has shown himself to be incredibly capable and trusting and a myriad of other things that make a good…well, you know. A good person to share a life with.”

A moment later, when Dale had turned off his tape recorder and Harry let himself in, Dale looked at him, with a look of slight embarrassment on his face. Harry knew what that meant, and his heart lurched.

“I’m sorry—I didn’t want to interrupt you. You seemed like you were on a pretty big train of thought. I didn’t want to stop it.”

“No, no, Harry,” said Dale, managing a very small smile, “I just. I mean it. I really do. I cannot put into words, at least, not to other people, how undeserving I feel of your…of your…” Dale stopped speaking.

“You are,” said Harry, putting the coffee down taking one of Dale’s hands and squeezing it, “you really are deserving of it. Mostly because you’re just as much capable and trusting as you said I was.”

Dale didn’t say anything, but he squeezed Harry’s hand back. The two of them sat on the bed together, leaning on each other, both wondering how they found someone as wonderful as each other, in awe of the fact that despite everything, they were together. 


End file.
